


Working title: Alagaysia

by devil_child (rivkael)



Category: The Inheritance Cycle - Christopher Paolini
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Anxiety, Apathetic Character, Baby Dragon, Bad Decisions, Body Dysphoria, Dragon Riders, F/M, Game of Thrones Travelling Syndrome, Gender Dysphoria, Gender Issues, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Magic, Other, Peyton Emery's Foul Mouth, Self-Insert, Swearing, There need to be more Eragon fics guys, by that i mean im not good at estimating travel times/distances, durza is WEIRD, fuck the movie, fucking racist elves, gil'ead has a huge library fight me, glaedr is bae, its a dragon egg guys, not movie compliant, racist acts, travelling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-18 11:00:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9381539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivkael/pseuds/devil_child
Summary: Peyton Emery is the usual foul-mouthed teenager doing nothing with their life. the only thing they are above average in is fandom knowledge, and it's not like you can make a career from that, can you?(Well, maybe not a career)(Maybe a profession...)(Maybe, a lifestyle)





	1. thverr (traverse)

**Author's Note:**

> this is not edited or proof read.
> 
> it is written merely for my own enjoyment, and i do not intend any copyright infringement. 
> 
> S/O to any real-life Peyton Emerys!
> 
> THERE IS A PLAYLIST OK ITS CALLED PEYTON EMERY'S JAMMY JAMS HERE'S THE LINK:  
> https://open.spotify.com/user/11136266734/playlist/3JIqkUss2u3luz0FwxlNji  
> ~rio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme song for this chapter is 'Fuck you', by Lily Allen.

Peyton Emery was so fucking done. They’d been on their way to the after-prom party that was being held in the woods near town, but they’d somehow managed to get lost. They didn’t recognise anything around them, and the sunset in the west was at exactly the angle that whenever they accidently glanced at it, they’d be blinded for a good few seconds. They pulled their phone out, but even at the highest brightness setting, the glare from the sun made it impossible to read the screen. They plodded on, along the path, hoping to find a rest stop or a signpost or somewhere they could sit down without being attacked by nature.

The path they were on ran parallel to a ditch, with a high hedge behind it, while on their other side what looked like a baby Christmas tree plantation stretched as far as they could see. There was a corner up ahead, and Peyton sped up, _so_ ready to get out of the damn unfamiliar area and back to civilisation.

They turned the corner and stopped, letting out a groan of despair.

Woods, yes, but not the woods they were looking for. Carlene specifically said there was a huge silver birch tree right before the entrance, but there was no such tree.

Maybe this was a different way in? Peyton paused, seeing if they could hear any music.

Nothing.

They shrugged and headed into the woods, noticing the dry, cracked ground.

Just as they passed the treeline, the ground seemed to give way underneath them, and they tumbled helplessly down a dry slope. Pain shot through their body each time they rolled further, the slope being too steep for them to gain any leverage to stop. Eventually they did come to a halt, landing at the bottom of the slope with a splash in a deep pool that they hadn’t seen.

It was dark, and they couldn’t breathe. Their hair swirled around their face, and the light filtered down to them as they hit the bottom.

Shit. Peyton cursed themself mentally for not paying attention as they quickly swam for the surface, breaking it in just two pulls of their arms-

“What the _fuck_.” Peyton was in the middle of a fucking lake. It was huge! And they were in the _middle_. Now, Peyton may have been a fan of fandom, but that didn’t mean they actually seriously believed in magic. “I repeat,” They trod water for a few seconds to get their bearings and cuss a bit more, before turning in a circle, locating the closest shore, and swimming for it. “ _What the fuck?_ ”

Focussed as they were on swimming, they didn’t notice the sun was now rising rather than setting.

“I suppose it’s too much to hope you survived.” They said to their phone, pulling it from their bag. Water dripped from every hole, and the phone would not start. “Well that’s just fan-bloody-tastic.” They said, dropping the phone next to them and pulling the rest of their possessions from their bag, letting out a curse every time something was ruined.

Their notebook was waterlogged, maybe it could be salvaged?

Peyton snorted to themself, on the verge of tears as reality hit. Who were they kidding? They were going to be lost out here forever. Who cared about the stupid notebook?

At the bottom of their bag, their hand met something that definitely hadn’t been there before. A smooth rock, by the feel of it. They pulled it out slowly, and were met with a large stone, bright and shiny like a gem. It was about the size of a loaf of bread, but a bit heavier. It was a beautiful grey, with silver, black and white veins running through it.

“The fuck?” Peyton put it down on a convenient pile of moss for now, more worried about the rest of their stuff.

Two pens had survived, and a lip balm. Half a bottle of water. The powder makeup was all ruined, and the cheap-as brushes weren’t in a better state. There was a packet of wotsits and a chocolate bar that _seemed_ to still be sealed. Their pocket mirror was wet through, and would probably rust but it looked fine for the moment. They tossed a pack of tissues, and tested their deodorant, but it wasn’t working. “Ugh.” They lobbed it at the tissues, and pulled out the last thing; their ipod and headphones.

Maybe…? “Please, if there’s any god…” Peyton begged under their breath, and let out a small whoop when it turned on. “YES! Thank you, Jesus or Loki or fucking Zeus, I don’t know, but thank you.”

The headphones they put to their mouth and carefully sucked, seeing if they could get the water out. Somehow, it worked, and Peyton grinned to themself, putting one earbud in their ear and hitting shuffle.

And the song that played was Mr Saxobeat. They unconsciously dipped their head to the song, laughing quietly to themself as they held their phone up and tried to dry it.

They were cold, they suddenly realised.

“Well shit, Peyton I didn’t know you were dumb.” They muttered to themself, taking off their jacket to wring it out. “Christ, you prioritised your shit over yourself. Peyton is stupid, they’re a stupid-ass!” They pulled the jacket back on. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph you’re bad at this. Why are you a brownie leader again? If one of them girls got soaked through for some reason they’d be screwed. Warmth!” They stood up and stretched out, looking for the sun.

“Well, fuck me sideways in the eyeball.” Peyton said, looking around. This… this was not sunset. This was day. Bright day. Early day? Judging by the birds, it was early. “The frick?”

They gathered all the rubbish into their bag so it wouldn’t be forgotten, then closed it and left everything else at the base of a tree, piled around the weird rock.

They bounced on their toes, looking for a good tree for climbing. When they spotted a good one, they ran over and began climbing it, being careful not to scrape themself as they didn’t know how long they’d be out here and they didn’t want to hurt their hands. It was a tall tree, and Peyton clutched the branches tightly as they reached a level where most of the other trees weren’t.

They clutched the tree for two reasons; one, they weren’t good with heights. Two, the forest they were in seemed to go on forever in every direction. “Fuuuuuuuuccccckkkk.” They said with feeling, staying there for a minute before climbing own as fast as they could.

“Okay, I need water, then food, then shelter.” They muttered, running back to their stuff and gathering everything together. They didn’t want to leave any rubbish behind so stuffed it all back into their still-damp bag. The stone didn’t fit properly, so Peyton shrugged and decided to carry it separately.

Their feet were squelching in their shoes as they set off, and they bore it for a bit, then knelt and examined the ground, wondering if they could take them off. They _were_ converse, they’d probably dry faster around Peyton’s neck. The ground was unusually soft and mossy, and, looking in the direction they were walking, they probably could, but then they’d have to take off their socks too, and that was bad because _cold + wet = hypothermia_. Trench foot vs hypothermia, hmm.

Peyton decided to keep their shoes on for now, despite the feeling of water being squeezed between their toes. Hurt feet was infinitely worse than wet feet.

It was maybe half an hour later that Peyton found a stream leading into the lake. They cheered quietly to themself and set about following it away from the lake, now quite happy that they’d kept their shoes on, because the forest wasn’t so soft and clear further away from the lake.

Holding the egg was extremely awkward, Peyton had found out, but now they were climbing over debris and skirting brambles of some sort, it was even worse. They wondered if they should just leave it there, but it had been in their bag after they’d arrived here. Whoever had brought them here, they’d wanted them to have it. They continued on, and another twenty minutes had passed before they reached the point the water came out from underground.

They planted their things on the floor, and knelt to taste the water, knowing they should boil it but having nothing to boil it in. It didn’t have any strange flavours, so they assumed it would be safe - at least for now. A branch snapped behind them, and they spun around quickly, only to be met with a blade to their chest and a woman with long hair staring at their things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if anybody wants to know, I based the egg's appearance upon grey spinel gems - slightly too dark to be called silver, but still elegant and beautiful.


	2. dröttning (queen)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's theme is 'i write sins not tragedies' by Panic! at the disco.

The woman barked something in a language Peyton didn’t understand, and they blinked slowly, trying to show their confusion. “I don’t understand you.” They said.

The woman lowered the sword and stepped closer, so she was nearer to Peyton’s bag than Peyton was. “How did you come to be here with nobody knowing? And how,” She flicked her gaze at Peyton’s things – no the stone beside the things. “Did you come to be in possession of a _dragon egg_?”

“A what?” Peyton looked at the stone themself. It _could_ be an egg, they supposed.

“You don’t even know what it is?” the woman asked, surprised.

“I thought it was just a stone.” Peyton replied, watching as the woman knelt down and gently lifted the egg in her arms. “Can I have it back, please?” They blurted out. “It was with me when I got here.”

The woman tucked her black hair behind her ears, and held the egg to her chest. “It is not to be kept by one, coveted as an ornament.” She snapped, and Peyton suddenly gasped. They’d seen the woman’s ears. “It is a gift to many.”

 _Her ears were pointed_. Nobody had pointed ears, not in real life. “Elves, dragons.” Peyton muttered to themself, half hopeful, half terrified. “What’s this forest called?”

“Du Weldenvarden.” The woman eyed Peyton’s damp clothes and hair, then turned into the forest. “Come with me.”

“Du weldenvarden? Fuckity fuckity fuck. You’re sure?” Peyton grabbed their stuff and hurried to catch up. Eragon. Fucking _Eragon._ It just _had_ to be Eragon.

“Of course I’m sure.” She said irritably. “Come on.” She set a harsh pace, but it only lasted a few minutes before they reached a clearing, where a pale horse with no saddle awaited them. “Bjatr can carry you, while I run.” She decided, and before Peyton could blink, they were on the horse with the egg in their arms while the elf held their bag. “He will not let you fall.” She said, before saying something in another language to the horse, which easily set off at a quick pace.

After a few moments of riding sloppily, Peyton found their rhythm and began to rock with the horse’s movements, making the ride much more manageable. The elf woman kept abreast of them effortlessly, making Peyton wonder why she’d brought the horse in the first place.

They travelled for maybe an hour with no breaks, before the woman told the horse something and it slowed down. Peyton was helped off the horse and allowed to keep the egg as they walked through a strange settlement made from what seemed to be living trees. They appeared to have been grown in certain patterns and arrangements as to form small houses and huts beneath and in them. There were even a few homes in the canopy! It was unreal and utterly thrilling.

 As the pair walked (the horse had trotted away when they’d begun to move), Peyton became aware of people – elves – watching them. Whispers came through the trees, and the occasional snatch or song or verse reached Peyton’s ears. None of the elves seemed to have the courage to actually approach, apparently put off the glares Peyton’s rescuer/guide was giving, but here and there, Peyton could see a figure, standing in the shadows, staring.

From what they could see, the elves as a whole were more good-looking than humans, but not nearly as much as was implied by the book. Every single one of them was as least decent-looking, but there were few who were truly stunning. This actually made Peyton relax, because being surrounded by effortlessly beautiful people would’ve been annoying.

Not to mention damaging.

The woman pulled Peyton to a stop in front of something that looked like an outdoor church, but instead of an altar at the head, there was a throne, enclosed under a white gazebo. “May I have the egg?” She asked, turning to them. Peyton went to hand it over, then shook their head, drawing it protectively to their chest.

“It was given to me, it’s the only gift from the one who brought me here.” They said. “With all due respect, I think it’s meant for me.” That was the gist of it. If Peyton had received this as a gift or by accident, it was the only thing they had that pointed to the thing/being/person/god that had brought them here. As such, they wanted to keep it. “I’ll bring it for you though, and show it to people.”

“Fine,” The woman sighed, dropping Peyton’s bag to the ground at their feet. “Wait here for a moment.” She headed off to the gazebo, and Peyton watched as she respectfully greeted a magnificent elf-woman who was wearing a red tunic and a crown. This had to be the Queen.  Queen Islanzadí, to be exact. Okay, timeline was important here. Really important, because Islanzadí was a bit racist before the war, and didn’t really like humans – she was elf-centric. Eh. Peyton couldn’t think about it now. It wasn’t like they could change it if they had arrived at an unfortunate time.

And it seemed they had, Peyton thought. The Queen looked haggard and tired, as though she hadn’t slept properly for some time. In the two other elves talking to her, Peyton could easily see the tension and worry they were feeling for her. Obviously they cared for their Queen.

The Queen glanced at Peyton, eyes directed at the egg in their arms. “Come here.” She said, none to politely. They approached as respectfully as they could, well aware that if anyone in the clearing wanted the egg, they could easily take it. They dipped their head in respect as they got close, hugging the egg to their chest.

“Who are you?” She asked, sitting down in the throne. The woman who’d saved Peyton from death by exposure stood to the side, while the other two elves retreated into the shadows.

Peyton opened their mouth. “I am Peyton Emery.” They didn’t know how to address the Queen, so simply kept their speech formal and their body language deferential as best they could, instead.

“That tells me nothing, child.” The Queen shook her head. “Where did you come from?”

“England, Oxfordshire.” Peyton replied. “Near Middleton Courtenay.” It wasn’t like the Queen could place their home anyway, they thought sadly.

“And where is that?”

“The United Kingdom of Great Britain.” Peyton said proudly. Even scared, they were always happy to be British. “In Europe.”

“I don’t know any of these places.” The Queen said, looking troubled. She closed her eyes for a moment, seemingly gathering strength, before continuing. “How did you come to be here?”

Peyton considered answering ‘on a horse’, but honestly, the Queen looked like she’d had a _really_ bad week. They didn’t want to push her over the edge. “I don’t know.” They said honestly. “I fell down a steep slope and landed in a pool. When I broke the surface, I was in a huge lake.” They shrugged. “Whether it was a higher power or just a wonder of Physics, I’m here. And so,” they hefted the egg so it was more visible. “Is this.”

The Queen held out her hands. “Give it to me.”

Peyton frowned, but stepped forward and handed it to the tired-looking elf, who looked upon it with wonder. “There haven’t been any silver eggs in more than a thousand years.” She said quietly. “Did it just appear with you?”

Peyton nodded, putting their hands behind their back so they didn’t fold them over their chest. “I honestly have no idea what happened, but I have nowhere to go.” They blurted out. “I don’t want to make trouble, but I have nothing but the clothes on my back, a few possessions that survived their swim, and that egg. I believe it was given to _me._ ”

The Queen put a hand on her chin, touching her lips. “Perhaps. Would you be willing to stay here for a short while, to prove that fact?”

Stay? Here? Where Oromis and Glaedr would be available for training if the egg _did_ hatch? “Yes! I’d be glad to!” Peyton wrapped their hands around themself. “You can even lock me up if you want, just let me keep the egg for two weeks.” It’d taken Saphira around a month to hatch, but Peyton was betting on the fact that the blue dragon had been stunned by the magic that’d transported her.

“It normally doesn’t take more than a few days.” The Queen informed them. “Rheole will take you to a place you can stay. There should be a guest house free.” She added to Peyton’s rescuer – apparently called Rheole. “Arrange for food to be brought to her and a guard to stay with her, otherwise she may wander as she likes.”

Peyton pressed their lips together, wondering if they’d ever get used to the jarring feeling when they were misgendered. “If I could-“ They began. “Can I speak freely?” The blood began draining from their face, like it did every time they had to come out and weren’t sure of the reaction.

The Queen nodded.

“I’m not a girl.” Peyton said in a rush.

“You’re not.” The Queen said. There wasn’t scepticism in her eyes, just surprise.

“I’m non-binary.” They said, then cursed themself. Why would elves know the word binary? “Genderqueer. Genderfluid. Not a girl or a boy. And,” they paused for a moment, taking another deep breath. “My pronouns are they/them. Please don’t call me she.”

“We have that concept here.” The Queen said easily. “Elves are often fluid in gender. It comes of being so close to magic. It is no great issue.” She offered Peyton a smile, then the egg, and as they stepped up to take it, she looked them over critically. “Is it really so troublesome, where you come from?” She asked. “You were terrified.”

“Always.” Peyton kept taking even breaths. “The world I know is unforgiving of such things.” They were looking at the egg, not the Queen, so they didn’t see the pity and sympathy that briefly appeared on her face.

“You need not fear.” She stated, before standing. “I look forward to seeing more of you, Peyton Emery.”

At the obvious dismissal, Rheole stepped forward and began guiding Peyton back to their bag, which still sat where she’d let it fall. “I am sorry for any distress I may have caused.” She said and grabbed the bag, slinging it over one of her shoulders easily. “It wasn’t my intention to demean you in such a way.”

“I’m used to it.” Peyton said ruefully. “People look at me and see, well.” They indicated their whole (obviously female) body, then shrugged.

“I’ve been called ‘it’, spat on, avoided, ignored, sexualised then dumped as soon as they find out, called slurs and ostracised. A few wrong pronouns isn’t much beside that. I have had people follow me around,” they said, keeping up with Rheole as she led them down a half-invisible path. “Telling me there’s only two genders, and that I must be messed up in the head. _That_ hurt. You assuming my gender because you didn’t want to speak to me because you though I may be dangerous is nothing.”

Rheole didn’t say anything, but her grip on their arm tightened for a moment. They continued through the trees in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> while Sutton Courtenay and Nuneham Courtenay exist, I am reasonably certain there is no village called Middleton Courtenay in Oxfordshire.


	3. skulblaka (dragon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some elves internalise their racism. some, however, let it free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter theme song is 'duality' by Set It Off

They awoke early the next morning, and after a few moments of disorientation, managed to recall the events of the day before. After meeting with the Queen, Rheole had taken them to a simple house, and locked them inside with the egg for an hour or so as she want to find clothing and food, and to arrange a guard. Peyton hadn’t minded. It had given them privacy to cry a bit, and then clean themself up afterwards. The food that had been provided had been vegetables, essentially, but luckily Peyton had liked everything that had been included in their meals so far.

 Later in the evening, Peyton had relinquished their clothing to an elf who swore he’d be careful while washing it, and had dressed in the clothing that Rheole had given them - a green tunic with brown leggings, with a warm cardigan and some very, _very_ nice socks. Over the top went a brown belt and a long, dark, hooded cloak.

And finally, they’d fallen asleep on a nest-like bed, curled up under some warm woollen blankets, which were now hanging half on the bed, barely keeping them decent.

A squeak pierced the silence, and a few second later there was a knock. “May I come in?” It was the guard, a blonde male with a good foot of height over Peyton.  His name was Valí.

Peyton grabbed the leggings from the day before, and then wrapped their cloak around them. “I’m fairly decent!” They replied. “Come in.”

A second squeak sounded as Peyton heard the guard unlocking the door. They glanced in the direction it came from, and forgot all decency as they rushed to kneel beside the egg, where it was resting in a nest of blankets. It was rocking slightly, and when Peyton put a hand upon it, they could feel the vibrations of the tiny creature within, fighting to escape.

Valí whispered something under his breath as he approached from behind, and Peyton could tell it was an exclamation of awe. He knelt beside them, but a bit further back, as though acknowledging that this was _their_ stage, not his.

There was a sharp cracking sound as the egg continued to squeak and vibrate, and Peyton removed their hand, ready to pull away bits of eggshell from the poor hatchling when it broke through the harder-than-diamond shell it had rested in for so long. A part of the egg suddenly exploded outward, and Peyton let out a tiny sound of delight as the head of the dragon became visible. It made quick work of the rest of the egg, and then spilled out onto the blankets, damp from the fluid that had been protecting it.

Peyton held out their hand as soon at the dragonet looked up, knowing it had to come to them, or they would not be trusted. The dragon squeaked loudly, and stumbled towards them, and its nose came down on their left palm. White light flashed over Peyton’s vision, and their muscles locked as though electrified-

“Finally waking up, are you?” someone commented from the side. It was Valí, and he was sitting on the side of the bed, knocking his heels together. “It’s been maybe twenty minutes.” He added, when Peyton looked up at him. “I sent message to the Queen that you are the rider. She ought to arrive soon.”

Peyton looked down at the small dragon curled up against their side. “Are you hungry?” They asked it teasingly. Something seemed to slip through their mind, curling through their thoughts. When they pressed back against it, they caught a flash of curiosity, as well as a low, burning hunger. They snorted. “I’ll take that aa a yes. Is there any way we can get some food for them?” Elves were vegetarians, shit. SHIT. How could a baby dragons survive here? Peyton stared at Valí until he shifted uncomfortably, but didn’t back down. “Look, Valí. If they don’t get food, they’re going to starve and die. Dragons are carnivores. If you don’t have the stomach to kill and prepare meat, find someone who does!” They said sharply. “I’m allowing you to feed me entirely vegetarian food, but this is a dragon. Meat-eater.”

Valí nodded, and fled the room. Peyton scooped the dragon to their chest as they sat up, and it blinked sleepily up at them. Their heart melted as they carried it over to the bed and sat down. “We’ll get you some food, don’t worry.” They assured it as it whined in their head. “Even if I must hunt it myself, which, let’s face it, would be an unmitigated disaster.”

The dragon was a glorious, glossy grey, slightly too dark to be called silver, but when Peyton gently lifted it up to re-arrange its wings, they discovered that its underside was a lot paler, and the gradient of tones seemed to follow the pattern of darkest – near black – along the spine and palest along the belly. The dragon’s claws, teeth and back spines were clear white, and its eyes were truly a gorgeous silver, the colour of a ten pence coin, but slightly larger.

It let out another squeal, and Peyton gently caught its head and looked at its teeth. It had two white fangs, curving out of the mouth, and a number of smaller, but no less sharp slicing teeth further in. Good. It wasn’t defenceless. They still didn’t entirely trust the elves not to take the hatchling away, even though, logically, the long-lived creatures would gain nothing by doing so, especially as Peyton would probably just say ‘fuck this’ if they woke to an absence of egg/dragon, and go to Galbatorix to inform him of the cache on Vroengard in exchange for immunity and the chance to meet Shruikan. Because, _Christ_ , Peyton wanted to meet Shruikan.

They pulled out their iPod again, and checked the battery, raising their eyebrows at the fact it was still full. Plugging in the music, they hit shuffle, and let the device choose from the thousand-odd songs stored on it. The opening chords of _Paradise_ streamed into their ears, and they grinned, leaning back against the pillows and pulling the dragon on top of them, letting it sniff their face and hands.

It was a sweet animal at the moment, Peyton mused, letting it scramble off them and watching as it began to stumble around the room. That would soon change. It would take only weeks until it was as tall as them, and they ought to be able to ride it when it was around three months old. Such a short time, yet also so long. That was more than half the timeline of the first book, and that meant Peyton had less room to manoeuvre – the elves would definitely be training them for _at least_ that long.

They had to choose a goal, they realised, keeping one eye on the dragonet even as they ran to the writing desk in the corner. The dragon approached as they sat down, curiosity once again at the forefront of its emotions. Peyton heaved it onto their lap and reached for the antiquated supplies, groaning at the whole thing. “Okay.” They bit their lip.

**_OPTIONS_** , they wrote at the top of the page, and sat there for a minute, thinking.

**Stay neutral – run north or east (not viable; cold, isolation, wilderness, no magic training, no point)**

**Varden – politics but humans and Fight the Good Fight ™ (ugh + no training again. Also, dwarves.** **)**

**Surda - literally the Varden, idk maybe. Kinda unknown.**

**Elves – ~~racists, no humans here~~ good @magic, safety (vegetarianism. FML** **), training, DRAGON KNOWLEDGE**

**Find the Protagonist (ugh, please no. avoid if possible ( ~~could save brom + even tho he’s stupid)~~ ) (easier to follow timeline if w/ protagonist)**

**~~Dwarves (not happening. Protagonist starts a civil war war)~~ **

**Urgals – people won’t expect it :P, but they’re all working for Galbatorix atm (that how u spell it?)**

**... Galbatorix? ( _LAST RESORT!! MAY HAVE TO SWEAR OATHS! NO PROTECTION FROM HIM @THIS POINT!_ )**

**Murtagh + Thorn (neutral? Kinda? (gotta wait 4 thorn? ~~There’s no time~~ ))**

Peyton set the pen down and surveyed their list, before lifting it and crossing out a few things, and adding more notes as things occurred to them. Once they’d brainstormed as much as they believed they could manage for something as serious as this, they grinned down at the dragon, which was resting comfortably on their lap.

“Are you male or female?” They muttered quietly, before lifting the creature and cradling it so she could examine its genitalia. It endured the position for a few seconds before snapping at them, and scrambling upright, irritation pressing against Peyton’s mind. Peyton let out a delighted laugh though – they had seen enough. Their dragon was a girl.

A _girl_. “Names, then.” It was well into mid-morning now, and even Peyton was getting hungry, wondering when Valí would return. They began offering names, trying to imagine the dragon fully grown. “Lorna? Genevieve? Aevyn? Maelyn? Aella? Danaerys?” they let out a snort after the last one, and kept listing names and the dragonet continued to reject them. Finally, they began offering made up names, things they’d used in fantasy fanfictions. “Naina? Pollica? Malouise? Marlanie? Tabithe? Gabrie? Jaycifer? Ta-? Wait, Jaycifer? You like Jaycifer?” The dragon sent feelings of happiness through the bond. “Alright then, sweetie.” Peyton reached for the basin of water on the dresser, and drew a tiny cross on the dragon’s head. “I christen you Jaycifer. May the blessing of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit be with you now and forever.” They paused a moment to pray silently that the two of them would make it out the other side alive. “Amen.”

Moments after the impromptu christening was finished, there came the sound of footsteps outside the door. Keys rattled, and then a single one turned in the lock. Valí entered first, and told them to put down the dragon while they ate. They didn’t notice anything was amiss until their head began swimming. A feeling of persistent worry and fear was coming from Jaycifer, and it took Peyton only a few seconds to realise that they’d been drugged.

_Think!_

Their thoughts were like slugs. They pulled Jaycifer’s mind close to theirs, and pushed as good an image of Glaedr through her mind as they could. _Gold scales. Missing a leg. Huge_. _Find him. He will protect you!_ Peyton said urgently, feeling their consciousness fading. They tried to stand, to distract the elf, let Jaycifer escape, but his eyes were all on the dragonet.

He said something angrily in his language, and Jaycifer jumped out of her skin. Peyton, swaying on their feet, lifted Jaycifer in their arms and backed away, towards the largest window.  _I will come for you, but you must fly!_ They said to the dragon desperately, putting them on the windowsill quickly and then pushing them through the window. Luckily elves didn’t use glass.

This last effort was too much, and Peyton fell to the ground, Valí’s yelled echoing in their ears as they curled into a ball. Jaycifer’s consciousness wavered, but Peyton pushed at them desperately, giving them the image of a huge golden dragon. _Glaedr, his name is Glaedr_ , was their last though before they fell against the wall and slid to the floor, eyes closing just as The Beatles’ _hey jude_ began to play in their ears.


	4. aurboda (banish)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peyton makes plans, and decides their next move.
> 
> There's a woman named Isla.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> theme for this chapter is 'The Ballad of Mona Lisa' by Panic! At the Disco

Peyton was being wheeled along in a hospital bed. Everything was fuzzy and the lights were both too weak and too bright. The bed bounced on a rut, and Peyton awoke with a gasp, eyes flying open. Their mouth was dry and their music was blaring in their ears. They tried to reach for their iPod to turn the bloody thing down, but their hands were fastened to the thing they were lying on.

They turned their head this way and that, trying to figure out what had happened. They were attached to something like a sled, and it was being pulled by a horse. And Peyton could feel every.  Single. Bump.

Oddly, there didn’t seem to be anyone on the horse. Was it going by itself, then?

Suddenly a wave of loneliness overcame them. Their little dragon, though the pair had only been joined a few hours, was too far away to feel. They could only hope she’d found Glaedr, who could in turn rouse Oromis to protect Jaycifer at the very least, if not search for Peyton too. They tried to reach out to the horse’s mind, like Eragon had done in the books, but they just couldn’t do it. They resigned themself to waiting until the animal stopped to graze, figuring it couldn’t last longer than a few hours.

They travelled through the night, and the next day, Peyton drifting in and out of consciousness, until suddenly they were out of the forest. Peyton blinked at the brilliant sun, then was jolted as the horse did a fancy twist to manoeuvre itself from the harness that it had used to pull them there. Satisfied, it re-entered the forest without looking back once.

Peyton was stiff, and bruised, and they had to get untied before it got dark. Luckily, it seemed the rope holding them to the sled had frayed. They pushed and pulled, and wriggled and struggled, until finally they had their legs free. After that, the leverage made it easier for them to slip out from under the bindings. By that point, the sun had lowered considerably, so Peyton glanced over the sled – they’d bundled up their original clothes and put them all in their bag, how _nice_ – before gathering everything up and facing the treeline, trying to recall the map that’d been at the start of the books, then turning left and following the edge of the woods.

They were pissed.

They were _incredibly pissed_.

They were going to Urû’baen.

And if they didn’t somehow bump into any of Eragon’s extended family along the way, they would join forces with the king in order to get their dragon back. There were exactly two humanoids in this universe that they cared about, and they were Murtagh and Elva. And they would burn both of them to get their dragon back.

 _Jaycifer_. The dragonet was barely three days old and she’d had her world torn from her. Peyton prayed that she’d be alright, fighting off grief and loneliness. Maybe this was the madness Galbatorix had felt.

“Fuck Valí and his fucking horse. I could be eating dinner with a fucking queen and instead I’m walking all the way to the centre of the freaking empire!” They muttered angrily, adjusting their headphones and putting on Maroon 5. “He doesn’t deserve his name, his station, that horse’s loyalty. God, Jay.” They moaned out quietly.

Wait, if they were a dragon rider, they could use magic. Using their newfound awareness of their mind, they poked around inside of it as they walked, searching for a little nub like Eragon had. There didn’t seem to be one, and they let out a groan, but kept walking and searching. It was probably too early for that. Eragon hadn’t started using magic until Saphira was maybe three months old, after all.

After a while, a smudge separate from the treeline appeared on the horizon. Peyton sped up, relieved, as it was near nightfall, and they did not want to be outside all night. Maybe they could even get some food!

The sun had set by the time Peyton reached the first house, and they couldn’t see anyone walking around. Mindful of the fact that these were dangerous times, Peyton wandered through the streets, looking for a home where there was still a light shining. Spotting one, they broke into a jog, and climbed the step to hammer on the wooden door, and then step back.

Heavy footsteps approached the front door, and then it was pulled inwards. An old woman holding a triple-pronged candelabrum stuck her head out. “Who is it?” she asked in a rasping voice. “You – girl. Step into the light!” She commanded, raising the candle higher.

Peyton inched forwards until they were bathed in the light from the small, flickering flames. They didn’t offer a smile.

“Who are you?” The woman asked, but before Peyton could reply, she pulled them inside, shutting the door behind them. “Wait- are you Jayne’s girl?”

Peyton shook their head, fiddling with their bag strap. “I’m Peyton.” They offered. “I was looking for a place to stay the night, and maybe get some food?”

“Wherever did you come from? Fra Welten’s the only village for leagues, unless you count the forest…”

Peyton’s mind whirled, and they pulled pieces of information together in the hope that they’d be able to come up with a reasonable tale. “I was travelling with my father,” they began. “And we were hoping to find an elf city, because he was ill and nobody at home could do a thing. We arrived in Osilon, but by that point my father was near death.” They let the tears they’d been holding back since they’d first arrived come forwards, and their voice began trembling as the continued. “And it didn’t matter anyway, even if they had been able to do anything, they wouldn’t’ve. They locked us in a room together with no food or water for nearly two days, and he died. Then they fed me something, and I think I must’ve been drugged, because I fell asleep, and when I woke up, I was tied to this sled thing that was being pulled by a horse. It was another two days before we reached the edge of the forest, and I was left to untie myself.” Peyton took a deep breath, trying to get themself under control.  “I just want to get home.”

“Where do you live?” the woman asked. “Do you have any other family there?”

Peyton nodded. “Gil’ead.” They said easily. It was fairly close to the woods, and was a stopping point on the way to Urû’baen. They suddenly remembered Arya. She was in Gil’ead, or would be soon, and Durza would be torturing her. What to do about that… “My mother’s family said they’d take me in if we couldn’t find a cure.”

“I don’t have a spare bed, but I can gather together some old cloths for you to sleep in here for the night, then in the morning we can see about setting you ready for a journey.” The woman gestured around, and Peyton gathered that this was some kind of living room. “My name’s Isla, by the way.” She called as she went to a cupboard and pulled out what looked like a bundle of bedsheets.

“It’s nice to meet you, Isla.” Peyton said, putting down their bag and stepping out of the way as Isla began to lay all the fabric down. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am for this – I have no way to pay you, I think you should know that.” They quickly added.

“I did gather that.” Isla replied, standing back up and brushing her hands on her apron. “But allowing you to sleep here for one night isn’t a strain on me, and we’ll discuss everything else in the morning. You look dead on your feet, girl.”

Peyton smiled faintly, and sat on the makeshift pallet bed, pulling off their elf-boots and laying them neatly on one side. “I won’t steal anything.” They said, taking off their belt as well, and the over-tunic, leaving them in a thin shirt, leggings and socks.

“I should hope not.” The woman retorted. “I’ll be locking you in here, so don’t try and leave. Goodnight!” she closed the door that lead to the rest of the house, and Peyton heard a bolt sliding against it as they were locked out.

Peyton lay down and pulled one of the sheets over themself, putting their headphones in and turning the music right down as they switched to their nighttime playlist. Strangely enough, the battery was _still_ displaying as full. Peyton was fairly certain at this point that this had to be a second gift from whatever being had dropped them here; songs from their homeland.

It wasn’t a bad gift, all things considered.

The dark let Peyton think as their eyelids grew heavier. Their rash decision to go to Urû’baen was seeming more stupid by the second, because even Galbatorix on his huge dragon would not storm the elven woods. It was a valid idea, though, and they left in on the back burner as they thought about their other options - most prominently, Murtagh.

He didn’t deserve anything that happened to him in the books, cursed with carrying his father’s name with him wherever he went, and the only thing he ever did was want to run. Peyton understood him completely.

Either way, though, they’d have to go to Gil’ead – they doubted the king would let just anyone into his presence, but maybe if they got vetted by Durza first, then they’d get in. Plus, they knew the Saphira Squad ™ would show up there at some point, _before_ Murtagh was captured.

They wished they could consult the books. There was no way they’d recall every plot intricacy, and they still didn’t know precisely where in the timeline they were – their only clue was the Queen was still alive, and looking worried, so probably sometime in the first book.

They let out a huff of air, and tucked the sheet tighter around themself, closing their eyes completely. It wasn't like they could do anything now, so their best option was to attempt to sleep.

And so they drifted off, Keane humming in their ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Isla is an OC, and Fra Welten is a made-up village - it's a corruption of the ancient language 'Fra Welden', meaning 'from forest'. This town used to be an elven settlement, but it was abandoned when humans deforested the area, and taken over not long after.


	5. vrangr (awry)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a gold and silver surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> theme for this chapter is (obviously) 'gold' as it was sung by Spandau Ballet

On Peyton’s third night in Isla’s house, they were woken when it was still dark and immediately turned off their music. Something was different. They glanced around, and suddenly it hit them-

_Jaycifer!_

_Peyton, Peyton!_

A third, heavy presence pressed against Peyton’s mind. _Your dragon came to me five days ago. It seemed only right that I protect her until she’s strong enough to survive on her own_.

 _Where are you?_ Peyton replied, pulling on their jacket and boots. _Are you in the woods?_ The voices did seem to be coming from the north.

_Yes. The climate in Ellesméra is not currently safe for you two, not at the moment._

Peyton paused at the door, closing it behind them, before setting off for the forest at a brisk walk. _Wait a second- are you Glaedr?_ They asked mentally, trying to keep their breaths even as they followed their bond with their dragon.

 _I am. How did you know about me?_ There was hostility there, and Peyton wasn’t surprised. He was the elves’ best-kept secret, after all.

Peyton ran Glaedr through the basics – the true story – as they kept moving. _Don’t worry, though. I don’t want to join Galbatorix – I just wrote that to scare the elves. I have no reason to anymore, anyway._

 _Peyton! Peyton! Peyton!_ Jaycifer called, excitement and frustration clear in her tone.

 _Jaycifer, I’m coming!_ Peyton sped up as much as they could, considering they were rushing through a forest in the dark.

They were close now – they could tell. Bushes rustled around them as their connection to Jaycifer became stronger and stronger. Suddenly-

They were together. Jaycifer had grown, and Peyton found themself stumbling at her weight in their arms. There was a low humming coming from where Glaedr seemed to have situated himself. _I think you two will be fine now. I must set off, before the sun rises. Can you find your own way back? I hope I don’t need to tell you to keep Jaycifer out of sight_.

Peyton nodded frantically, hugging Jaycifer tightly to their body. _Thank you so much, I'm... I'm sorry for what i wrote... if I get caught by the empire then you won't be anonymous anymore - I'm sorry. I can't ever repay you._

Glaedr didn’t even acknowledge the thanks, taking off in silence and winging his w ay north.

_Peyton! Jaycifer, happy!_

“I’m happy too.” Peyton muttered, keeping a tight grip on their dragon as they turned back towards the village.

When they reached the treeline, they lowered Jaycifer to the floor. “Stay here for a bit, okay?”

 _Peyton. Jaycifer and Peyton_. The dragon complained, _not alone._

Peyton rubbed their hand over her scales, marvelling at the smooth texture, similar to that of a snake. _Village is dangerous. Stay here. I won’t take long_.

They had been planning to set out for Gil’ead today anyway. In exchange for them doing some pretty pencil sketches and helping out around the village, they had been given some sturdy travelling gear and enough supplies to get them to the city. 

The dragon settled down just behind the edge of the woods, crawling under a bush. _Stay. Call if danger_.

Peyton replied to the affirmative, and made it back to the village just as the sun began peeking over the horizon. They made it back to Isla’s house, and sat back down on their pallet bed, gathering together all their things. Their iPod, they brushed off before rolling it up in the headphones and tucking it in their pocket.

The morning passed quickly, a rush of everybody working together to help Peyton get ready. It was too much, really, but each of the people insisted separately, and Peyton didn’t have the heart to refuse more than a few of the offers – especially when the villagers seemed so earnest.

By noon, Peyton had set off westward in their new walking shoes. _Follow me from in the trees for now._ They told Jaycifer, who sent back a complaint, but began crawling along the undergrowth.

Eventually, Peyton judged they were far enough from Fra Welten, and called their dragon to them. Jaycifer spent most of her time perched on their shoulder, but also liked to fly around Peyton like a strange drone. She was also still growing – when she’d been born, she’d been like a small cat. Now she was the size of a large dog – but she moved like a cat.

Over the eight-day journey to Gil’ead, Peyton forced themself into an exercise regime whenever they weren’t walking, including gymnastics stretches and core exercises such as sit ups. By the time they reached the city, they were tanned (a great shock), and were beginning to grow some muscle. They were already feeling more energetic and happy, and though they now needed to find some kind of temporary job, they were optimistic.

Jaycifer stayed in a clump of trees about half a mile back from Gil’ead, on the shore of the lake it was next to – the Isenstar Lake. She wasn’t happy about it, but over the course of the week-long journey, Peyton had planned – with the dragon – to travel north along the Ninor River, to attempt to locate Brom in Carvahall before he and Eragon set off on their disaster of a revenge mission.

But first they needed a bit of money for food and warm clothes, which was where the job came in. Peyton could read and write neatly, and do complicated maths that most of the residents couldn’t even dream of. However, they were a woman, and in this world, that meant there was less of a chance of them being able to get a job at something intellectual.

They got into Gil’ead easily enough by saying they were visiting their sister and her husband. They’d cringed at the leers one of the guards had given them, wishing (not for the first time) that they had a binder. When they bound their breasts and lowered their voice, they made a decent young man, but luckily their dysphoria wasn’t so bad that they’d rather bind unsafely than present as female for the time being. It was just irritating – and gave them a low level of anxiety, but they liked to ignore that fact (which wasn’t the best strategy – but nobody needed to know at this point).

Peyton wandered around for a bit and eventually found someone to direct them to one of the market squares. Once there, they quickly located the noticeboards, and looked them over, wondering if there might be a job they could look into.

Luck was not on Peyton’s side, however. Most of the board was covered with a drawing of an exotic looking woman – if Peyton guessed, they would say it was Arya – and the rest was mostly blank. There was some random graffiti, the usual X loves Y and all that, but nothing else.

Oh, and someone had carved a dick into the wood. Good to know people were the same.

But Peyton had always been lucky when it came to money, and today was no different. “Excuse me, miss, I’ve got to get this up on the boards.” Peyton stepped back as a young man in a uniform – with a sword in his belt – began to pin a HELP WANTED notice into one of the spaces. Peyton stepped u behind him and read it.

**HELP WANTED**

**In the city library**

**You must be able to read, write and follow instructions**

**Two crowns per day**

Peyton tapped the man on the shoulder. “Are they accepting women?” they asked.

The man nodded. “You must be quite desperate, miss.” He commented. “Most folks round here avoid the library, on account of Lord Durza’s fondness of it it.”

Peyton steeled themself at the mention of Durza. “I am just a young woman, he will have no reason to pay averse attention to me. Could you point me in the right direction?”


	6. äfguliä (bad luck)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A shattering of plans, and DURZA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song for this chapter is 'before the world ends' by Anarbor

It was on Peyton’s fourth day that they encountered Durza for the first time.

They were carrying some files for their boss, a smart old man called Aenorix, when Durza suddenly appeared around a corner. “Librarian Aenorix, locate us the elvish literature.” It could only be Durza. He wore all black, and his hair and eyes shone a bright red, contrasting with his chalky skin. He was also somewhat attractive, Peyton admitted in their mind, in the space that they weren’t using to _STAY FUCKING CALM._

“One moment, my lord.” Aenorix turned to Peyton. “Take those to the filing room and start going through them with Hverdar, Peyton. I will be down in a minute.”

Peyton could only nod and rush away, shocked at the affect Durza had had on them. They’d almost been transfixed, a mouse stuck in a snake’s gaze – even though he’d only given them the smallest of side glances.

The second time they encountered Durza was their seventh day in the library, and Aenorix sent them to escort him to the correct section.

“Where do you wish to go today, my lord?” Peyton asked respectfully.

He looked at them with piercing eyes. “Elves again.” He said. “We are having trouble with one.”

Peyton nodded, and led him through the library to one of the locked rooms, which they unlocked with a key Aenorix had given them. “Here, sir.”

Durza entered, and sat down on one of the chairs, pulling a book towards him that he’d obviously left there last time. “Thank you.” Peyton turned to go, but Durza spoke again. “Wait.”

Peyton turned back again, trying to stay calm. “Yes, my lord?”

“Why can I not see your mind?” He asked.

“I- I don’t know, my lord.” Peyton stuttered. What could they say? “I didn’t know you couldn’t!” Shit. Shit. SHIT. How was their mind shielded?

Maybe they were going to be going to Urû’baen after all.

“Curious.” He was watching them like they were an intensely interesting specimen. “You’re not lying.”

“I’m not.” Peyton agreed, taking a few deep breaths and holding their ground. “My lord?” They prompted when he didn’t speak for a few long moments. He seemed to be staring into nothing.

“You’re not quite human, aren’t you?” He asked after a few moments. “Don’t lie. We can feel it on you.”

Peyton swallowed. “I…”

“You didn’t know that either!” he crowed. “ _Interesting_. Join us.” He pointed to the second chair. Peyton didn’t have much of a choice. They sat. “Look at us.” He took their face in his hands and stared into their eyes.

His eyes were a truly magnificent red, Peyton noticed. As was his hair. As they held his gaze steadily, they felt a faint pressure against their mind, different to Jaycifer’s bond with them. The feeling was tiny, like a feather. Was that Durza? But the feeling was so _tiny_ and _weak._

He was supposed to be the strongest being in Alagaësia, barring Galbatorix and Oromis. That did not feel strong.

Maybe this was the third gift from the Being. Any Alagaësians who could read Peyton’s mind would be able to tell the future if there was no protection there.

“You’ve realised something.” Durza’s face was close enough that Peyton could feel his breath. “Tell us.” His eyes were boring into theirs. He looked excited – interested – elated, even.

Peyton shook their head slightly. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Peyton shook their head. They’d just decided _not_ to go to the king!

 _Peyton?_ Jaycifer had sensed their distress, by the sound of it.

 _Not now, Jay_. Peyton thought back, trying not to react, but there must’ve been a small tell.

“Something happened.”  Durza took a step away and looked around the room, but the door was closed and nothing had changed. He looked at Peyton suspiciously, the air around him seeing to coalesce into a cloud of power. “Can you use magic?”

Peyton shrugged, trying not to show how scared they were. They didn’t want to expose Jaycifer to these cruel people. The shade in front of them was torturing an elf whenever he had free time, for Christ’s sake! Their heart began pounding in their ears and they grabbed hold of a bookcase to steady themself.

 _Peyton? Safe? Help?_ Jaycifer inquired.

“Typical. We thought you were brave!” Durza threw up his hands, but did back away, waiting for them to calm.

Peyton closed their eyes and brought their hands up to cover their ears, taking deep, slow breaths as their heart raced. There was nothing but air in…and out. Nothing but their clothes on their skin, the ground beneath their feet, their hands on their face.

_…Peyton?_

Peyton rubbed their eyes. Hard. They concentrated first on their breathing, then on Durza’s, and then on the sound of paper rustling as the shade went back to his research.

The smell of dust.

They opened their eyes and let the black spots dissolve from their vision, and their hands fell to their sides in fists.

“Done?” Durza asked from where he’d sat down. The look on his face wasn’t sympathetic, but it wasn’t annoyed either. Perhaps Peyton was interesting enough that it didn’t matter.

That wasn’t comforting.

_Peyton! Safe??_

_Yes! I’m okay!_ Peyton managed to form a reassuring message. _There’s been a change of plans._

Peyton stepped forwards deliberately and sat down. “I need to speak to the King. Your torture of the elf isn’t going to get you anywhere, and she’s going to be rescued if you keep her here.”

It was a gamble, but Durza had never truly gotten angry that they remembered.

“How do you know about the elf?” Durza asked, and _yes_ , he was angry, but not dangerously so.

Peyton shrugged, and let themself smile lightly. “I know a lot of things. Like I said, I have to speak with the King. Also, I know where the egg went – the one she sent away. It’ll hatch before you get there, but if you go quickly, you could capture them when they’re still weak.”

“How can you know this?” Durza asked again, disbelief clear on his face.

“I will come with you, and tell you everything you need to know.” Peyton said seriously. “But I want immunity for one being.”

Durza tilted his head, a wicked smile playing over his lips. “It’s love!” He crowed. “We understand now! It’s the love of someone that’s letting you betray everyone else. Will they not desert you?”

Peyton shook their head. “No. She’d never leave me. Love _is_ the most powerful force in the entire universe.” They smiled in return, back to mostly normal after their freak-out. If there was one thing they could have faith in in this new world, it was Jaycifer. The dragoness had already shown herself to be immensely loyal (apparently she’d bugged Glaedr and Oromis for _days_ to fly her to the edge of Du Weldenvarden), and her morals were flexible enough that she fit well with Peyton.

Durza nodded briskly. “Do not leave the city.” He said. “Keep coming here every day. We will come for you.”

There was innuendo. Peyton tried desperately not to snort, and covered it by nodding seriously. “I’ll have to leave the city at some point.” They warned. “But it’ll only be for a few hours and I’ll come back.”

Durza shook his head. “We want you in Gil’ead at all times.” He said. “We cannot see your mind. You could be a traitor to the king.”

Peyton sighed theatrically, and held out their hands, palm upwards. “I can’t leave her alone for that long.” They said, indicating the silvery mark.

Durza stood up so fast that Peyton startled, eyes fixed on the gedwey ignasia. “The egg was yours.” He stated, his face lit up.

“No! It wasn’t!” Peyton protested, flinching. “Jaycifer’s not blue; she’s grey. The egg you saw wasn’t mine; it belongs to a boy in the north!”

“Jaycifer. An odd name.” Durza said, catching their hand as they went to back away. He brought it up to his face, tilting it this way and that. Peyton didn’t try to pull away.

“I want to see the king.” Their voice was small.

“Once we’re sure we can trust you. Tell us where the boy is.”

Peyton swallowed. This was it. Were they really going to betray the story - completely _fuck_ the timeline - because the elves had pissed them off?

Were they?

_Peyton…?_

For Jaycifer? Hell yes.

“You know of Therinsford?” At Durza’s nod, Peyton continued, taking their hand back. “He lives to the north of there, just outside a village called Carvahall. His name is Eragon, and he lives and works on his Uncle– Garrow –‘s farm. If you want to capture him and his dragon, you’ll have to go soon – in Carvahall lives an old rider – Brom, killer of Morzan. He’s going to find out that Eragon has a dragon, and even though he himself is dragonless, he has a huge amount of magical energy stored up, and a rider’s sword. He’s fairly formidable, and will want to protect the boy. Though the boy does not know it, Brom is his father.”

The shade nodded, processing the information. “We will assign you a guard with no tongue to visit the dragon. We’re sure there’s one somewhere.” He waved a hand at Peyton, dismissing them for now. “Leave us. We need to think.”

Peyton backed out of the room and collapsed onto a chair, pressing their hands to their face and taking deep, shuddering breaths.

_Peyton, safe?_

_Yes, love. I'm safe._ They replied in their mind, latching onto their dragon in the hope that the bond between the pair would calm them.


End file.
